


the just man rages in the wilds

by h0neybeebear



Series: the marriage of heaven and hell [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Choking, Episode: s02e09 Shiizakana, Face-Fucking, Hate Sex, Light Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Top Will Graham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:21:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29159583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h0neybeebear/pseuds/h0neybeebear
Summary: “I sense your fear, Will.” Hannibal murmured. “I feel the tremble in your hands like the Earth senses the groanings of a volcano... ready to explode.”“I’m not afraid.”“Show me.” Hannibal stepped closer to him. “Put your hands on me as you desire, rip me apart like the beast you are so jealous of.”ORHannibal suggests that Will stop hiding behind guns and perform an exercise in claiming power. Will finds his own way to climb inside his beast.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: the marriage of heaven and hell [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2190213
Comments: 15
Kudos: 100





	the just man rages in the wilds

The bodies of the mutilated truck driver and the lovers at the beach lived inside Will’s mind. The suit that the killer made hovered behind him, casting a shadow over every step he took. He thought of his dream, of Hannibal bound to the tree, bruised and bloodied, of sending out his own animal on a vicious attack. 

Leaning against Hannibal’s desk, he tried to imagine what it was like to fit inside the animal, to become a more evolved version of himself without the need for guns and barely veiled threats, when the walls of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane nor the boundaries of the FBI were not there to stop him. Hannibal asked him to ponder this fantasy. Will pondered if Hannibal could seep inside his dream and see the future that Will’s subconscious prepared for him. 

“When you sent a man to kill me, were you imagining killing me yourself?” Hannibal asked, settling against the desk beside him. “Living vicariously through him as if your hands tightened the noose around my neck... Or were you simply hiding?”

Hannibal’s gaze cut into him, and Will stared straight ahead, swallowing on a dry throat. 

“I wasn’t hiding from anything the first time I tried to kill you.” He replied sharply.

His first fragile attempt at putting a bullet in Hannibal’s head inside the Hobbs’ Minnesota home seemed weak even in his own memory. The bear-like killer’s shadow threatened him ominously in the back of his mind, casting a pall across his own attempts at gratification. 

“You were hiding.” Hannibal objected quietly. “Behind the gun.”

Will’s hand clenched around the edge of the desk, his jaw tightening incrementally. Hannibal smiled in the corner of his vision, seemingly unbothered by Will’s discomfort. 

“You must allow yourself to be more intimate with your instincts, Will.” He continued, gazing out towards the window. “Only then will you feel the full weight and power of your becoming.”

“No beast is more savage than man when possessed with power answerable to his own rage?” Will echoed Hannibal’s words, his eyes narrowed as he glanced over him. “You would have me become a beast like the thing that killed that truck driver and those two innocent people on the beach?”   


“I would have you become your own beast.” Hannibal replied, shifting away from the desk and pacing in a half circle in front of Will. “Although I imagine you as a less of a beast and more of a self-made god, perfectly capable of wielding beasts under his command.”  


Will swallowed once more, finding his throat barren.

“I sense your fear, Will.” Hannibal murmured. “I feel the tremble in your hands like the Earth senses the groanings of a volcano... ready to explode.”

“I’m not afraid.” Will whispered, his knuckles bleeding white as he grasped the desk. 

“Show me.” Hannibal stepped closer to him, his fingers gripping the knot of his tie. “Put your hands on me as you desire, rip me apart like the beast you are so jealous of.”   


Will clenched his eyes shut. He could feel the quaking bubbling up inside his stomach, the uncontrollable unlooping of his muscles and mind. 

“When strangling a person, you cannot hesitate.” Hannibal continued, his voice steady, unbearably calm as he loosened the tie. “You cannot allow yourself to falter for even a moment.”

Will’s eyes startled open as Hannibal’s thighs pressed against his knees. His eyes locked onto Will’s as he removed his jacket and laid it over the desk. Tilting his chin up, he unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, baring his throat to Will’s eyes. 

“Give me your hands.” He whispered, the words echoing like a tantalizing offer in Will’s mind rather than a command. 

Will’s fingers relaxed over the edges of the desk, the tips tingling as blood began to surge freely. He lifted his hands slowly, his palms spread upwards before Hannibal. Hannibal smiled, taking his wrists gently and stroking his thumbs over the deepest crease in the center of his hands. He turned them slowly upright and drew them closer. Fitting one hand against his throat, Hannibal gazed into his eyes as he pressed the web of skin between Will’s thumb and index finger into the fleshy underside of his jaw. Will felt a tremble ripple through his body, all the way down to the fingers wrapped around Hannibal’s pulsing jugular. A terrible hunger gnawed at his belly, whetted and encouraged by the vulnerable, soft skin of Hannibal’s neck.

“Both hands.” Hannibal murmured, drawing Will’s opposite hand below the other.

Will’s hands covered the expanse of his bobbing esophagus, and he pressed them closer with palms on top of Will’s knuckles.

“Do not rely on the squeeze of your fingers.” Hannibal instructed softly. “Use the strength in your arms, in your body. If you wish to be efficient, crush the windpipe. If you wish to make me suffer, let the air slowly escape. You, Will... are in control.”

Will stared at him, and the rumbling in the back of his mind grew louder until it was a screaming white noise, defined only by the thump of his pulse in time with the racing of blood beneath his fingers. He surged against Hannibal suddenly, growling as he drove them back. Hannibal stumbled, cheeks flashing high with color as Will’s hand seized around his throat. Will drove them back, momentum and savage desire nearly tipping them over. Hannibal’s legs hit the edge of the chaise that stretched out before the window, and Will pounced on him. He pushed him into the cushions and bore down on him, black tinging the edges of his vision. 

_ Use the strength in your arms, in your body...  _ Hannibal’s words repeated in the echo chamber of Will’s mind, the repetitions overlapping on one another until they blended into the pounding of his circulatory system. 

Hannibal’s face swelled, staggering, choking sounds ripping from his throat as Will squeezed tighter and the weight of his body threatened to snap fragile bone and cartilage. His eyes were watering, glimmering and glinting with dark, unspeakable pleasures. His hands twisted into sections of Will’s shirt, pulling him closer rather than pushing him away. 

Will growled once more, planting one knee on the chaise as he gripped Hannibal’s neck harder, shaking him with force of his own convulsions. Hannibal’s hips rolled up underneath him, grinding in pained ecstasy against the back of Will’s thighs and buttocks. 

_ Can you imagine tearing someone apart?  _ Hannibal’s voice whispered in the back of his mind. 

He felt nearly blinded by the forces of biology and psychology that were boiling his brain, yet here his trembling hands faltered. 

Hannibal’s hips swayed up once more, and the hardness of him throbbed hot beneath layers of clothing. The reality of Hannibal’s arousal jolted Will half way out of the waking dream. Below him, Hannibal’s full lips, bulging and red, pulled up at the corners. His body arched upwards as Will flexed his fingers, attempting to reassert control. Hannibal’s hazy eyes opened to gaze up at him with the glaze of combined agony and pleasure as he pressed his hips against Will’s backside once more.

Will sank down suddenly, pinning Hannibal down beneath him. His fingers loosened but remained around Hannibal’s throat, threatening. 

“You disgust me.” He whispered as Hannibal’s throat convulsed beneath his hands. “You’re sick.”

Even as he said the words, he couldn’t feel them. His lips were numb, and his brain was hot, cooking in the juices that Hannibal had simmered and prepared.

Hannibal tried to make a reply, but the air was suddenly whistling into his starved lungs, forcing him to involuntarily choke in response to the sudden oxygen intake. His soft belly seized and clenched as he wheezed. Will’s gaze followed the taut lines of his shirt and vest where it stretched across his frame, down to his belt buckle, entranced by the havoc he’d managed to wreak on Hannibal’s body in just a few short moments. 

Hannibal was breathing heavily, his full lips parted over sharp canines when the coughing finally ceased.

Will’s hands slipped from Hannibal’s throat, pressing against his collarbones. Hannibal’s throat was raw, his Adam’s apple bobbing as Will sat astride him, achingly silent. At last, Will dragged one hand upwards again, tilting Hannibal’s chin up with his thumb to inspect the damage he had done. The flesh was bursting with color and finger marks, red half moons where his nails had been close to breaking skin. There would be bruises.

“Will you finish me now?” Hannibal whispered, his voice husky from the abuse of Will’s hands. “Or shall I you?”

Will blinked slowly, his head throbbing. His stomach ached, his whole body tender and tight. Below him, Hannibal rocked his hips, urging him to feel the pressure below his own legs.

A gasp leapt from his throat, a choking, wet sound as if he himself had been strangled. He stood up suddenly, nearly tripping in his haste. He swayed above Hannibal, his hands shaking at his sides as he stared down at Hannibal’s splayed out frame.

Hannibal sat up slowly, his eyes shifting dark, the reemergence of the predator. He rubbed his throat with one hand before deliberately whipping his loosened tie from around his neck. It sailed to the ground as he sat forward. Between his legs, his cock obscenely strained beneath his pants.

His hands lifted, hunting through the air for Will’s hips. He caught him, pulled him closer. Maintaining eye contact with a blackened gaze, he pressed his cheek to the bulge in Will’s own pants. His lips parted with a sigh, his tongue languidly extending to trace the curve of Will’s erection. 

Even through layers of clothing, it seemed that Hannibal’s touch burned him. Will choked out another cry, this one more of a muted groan. Instinctually, he snagged his fingers in Hannibal’s hair, the same hand that he had used to squeeze the air from his lungs sinking into the silvery strands with trembling desire. Instead of pushing him down against the chaise as he intended, he yanked him closer, forcefully pressing Hannibal’s mouth against his erection. 

Hannibal’s eyes flashed, pupils pulsing. His fingers traced the line of Will’s belt towards the buckle with intention, and Will clenched his eyes shut in one feeble attempt at nonparticipation. He listened to the metal and leather slip past one another, then finally the hiss of the zipper. He rasped out another moan as the pressure of his jeans gave way and Hannibal deftly slipped his cock out of his boxers. His hands were warm and slightly moist with perspiration, handling him expertly with one set of fingers massaging at the base of the shaft, planting need into Will’s swollen testicles and aching flesh. Pleasure flared sharply through him when he felt the swipe of Hannibal’s lips and the roughness of his stubble at his raw and weeping tip. 

His eyes flickered open for half a second, driven by the need to see Hannibal choking beneath his flesh once more. He grabbed Hannibal’s head with his other hand, his entire body quaking with a heady mix of rage and desire. Hannibal’s plush mouth opened, his own eyes slipping closed as Will’s cock plunged into his mouth. 

The sudden engulfing fire of Hannibal’s mouth drove weakness into Will’s knees and he stumbled back, pulling Hannibal with him. Hannibal went to his knees on the floor, jarring Will’s cock deeper into his throat. He scarcely made a sound as his throat constricted against the head. He sank back, his mouth fully sealing around the velvety hard length of Will’s flesh, his pupils dilated and blown out when his eyes opened to gaze at Will lasciviously.

Will felt a cry rising on his tongue and he fought to swallow it back, growling in its stead. Wrenching his fingers tighter in Hannibal’s hair, he jerked his hips forward, fucking himself into the vengeful caress of Hannibal’s mouth. Pleasure pulled tight in his loins like an overstretched drawstring and he cried out suddenly, his head tipping back. The room was spinning, the systems of his body pulled from one high to another. 

Tucking his head down against his chest, he squeezed Hannibal’s hair tight and slammed him back against the edge of the chaise. He grabbed the elevated back of the lounge with one hand as Hannibal exhaled through his nose with a pleasured sigh. 

Will set his teeth and ground his cock into Hannibal’s mouth until he had set a punishing pace, ravaging Hannibal’s swollen, red lips and his soft, silky insides. Hannibal took each thrust with hazy elation in his heavily lidded eyes, his lips half-heartedly sucking while saliva gushed down Will’s cock and his chin. 

Will was panting and trembling, sweat beading across his forehead, chest, back, and stomach. His leg muscles felt white hot with exertion, but he could not stop. 

His eyes flew open when he heard Hannibal moan below him, the sound muffled and interrupted by the thrust of Will’s cock against the back of his throat. Hannibal’s eyes were rolled back, his cheeks flushed red. Below them, his hand was tucked inside his hastily unzipped pants, working desperately. 

Will pulled back abruptly, his cock swinging out of Hannibal’s mouth. A string of saliva dangled between his tip and Hannibal’s flushed mouth. 

“Stop it.” Will rasped, shoving Hannibal’s head back with the firm grip in his hair.

Hannibal’s eyes danced open and he swallowed thickly, his mouth still glimmering with spit and precum. 

“Get your hand out of your pants.” Will ordered, unable to still the tremble now that vibrated through his entire body. 

Adrenaline, righteous anger, and hideous pleasure coursed through his veins. The man below him was capable of terrifying acts of death and desecration, and Will wanted him to suffer in whatever way pleased him best. Hannibal so often reveled in pleasure at Will’s expense, and the opportunity to reverse those circumstances in his own favor could not be denied. The aching hunger in his belly was for Hannibal’s torture, not for their mutual benefit. 

Below him, Hannibal’s tongue darted out to swipe at his lips while his hand moved slowly inside his pants. His back arched slightly, his brow curling with pleasure. His eyes remained fixed on Will, tempting him to act against Hannibal’s own desire. Will slipped his hand out of Hannibal’s hair, standing back with disgust as Hannibal masturbated before him in unyielding ecstasy. 

Bending, he snatched Hannibal’s discarded tie. At this, Hannibal’s eyes flickered open from their half-lidded state, his hand slowing as his curiosity was piqued. He watched Will unknot the tie and size up the length of the silk and fabric.

“I asked you not to learn your limitations too quickly.” He whispered huskily, his words punctuated by sharp inhales. “Is this how you now expect to claim your power, Will? Will you force me?”

“I’m not living vicariously through anyone anymore.” Will replied, grabbing Hannibal's wrist and tearing his hand from his pants. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Hannibal consented easily, allowing Will to knot both of his hands together at one end of the tie.

“This isn’t about what I want.” Hannibal murmured, watching Will intently as his hands were bound together, tight enough to inhibit blood circulation and leave further bruises.

“Fisherman’s knots.” Will said, ignoring Hannibal’s words as he wrapped the other end of the tie around his fist and marionetted Hannibal’s hands above his head with a forceful tug. “I wouldn’t suggest attempting an escape.”

“On the contrary.” Hannibal replied, his mouth tilting in a smile. “If you recall, I was encouraging you just a few moments ago to be more at ease with the intimacy of your desires in regard to me, even the violent ones… Especially the violent ones.”

“Quiet.” Will ordered, grabbing him by the chin. “Your mouth is mine.”

Hannibal’s brows rose slightly at the bold statement, but he had little time to react. Will released his chin and grabbed his cock, pressing it forcefully to Hannibal’s lips. He shoved inside once more, groaning out as Hannibal’s mouth encased him. 

“Suck.” He growled, wielding the bindings in one hand and lacing his fingers in Hannibal’s hair once more. 

Hannibal obeyed, his cheeks hollowing out in exuberant acquiescence. Will cried out as Hannibal sucked down on him, leaving behind his languishing repose for intention. Will’s knees quaked and he hunched over Hannibal’s body, jerking his hips against his face in jagged movements. The impending orgasm flared hot in Will’s groin, and he grappled with control. He jabbed his knee into the chaise cushion once more, levering his weight with the assistance of the furniture. Flexing his fingers around the chunk of Hannibal’s hair in his grip, he clenched his eyes shut and pumped his hips against Hannibal’s face until his body was screaming for release. 

The orgasm came with a blinding power, gutting Will from the core of his body to the thrashing of his heart in his chest. He felt flayed open, breathless, and emptied of all blood and fluid. He quaked uncontrollably, his body lapsed over the chaise and Hannibal’s shoulders, jetting release into Hannibal’s mouth until it overflowed, until he was flaccid and swimming in his own hot fluids. 

He sank to the chaise, his arms stretched out on either side of him. He felt all at once weightless and heavy with the power he’d exerted over Hannibal. The sweat cooled on his body, the saliva and ejaculate clinging to his flagging cock. 

“The sneaking serpent walks in mild humility, and the just man rages in the wilds where the lions roam.” Hannibal said at last, his voice still raw and breathless. 

“What?” Will panted. His eyes opened towards the ceiling to see Hannibal rising up into his line of vision.

“William Blake.” Hannibal clarified, stepping closer until his knee was between Will’s dangling legs. “ _ The Marriage of Heaven and Hell _ . Blake theorizes that good and evil must both be contained within the human soul, a symbiotic relationship in which one cannot exist without the other.”

Will pushed himself up weakly on his elbows, sizing up Hannibal’s disheveled appearance, his hands still dangling in front of him, tied taut. His pants scarcely hugged his hips, his erection straining against his black boxers. 

Will reached out and trailed his fingers along the tie. Hannibal’s nostrils flared slightly as he closed hand around the tie. 

“Is that what you imagine this is?” Will asked, his gaze flicking up to Hannibal’s as he pulled the tie taut.

Hannibal’s lashes fluttered languidly, his throat moving with a swallow.

“What description of you and I can be more appropriate than two sides of the same coin, bound as much by our similarities as our differences?” Hannibal questioned, hips arching forward with the tug of Will’s grip on the tie.

“I could think of a few.” Will said darkly, rising from the chaise.

There were scarce centimeters between them, mouths nearly touching. Hannibal’s eyes were hooded, his breath hot as it hissed from between his teeth.

“I would love to hear your thoughts some time.” He managed around aroused exhales, his chest rising and falling quickly. 

The passion that had blinded Will mere minutes ago was written in his eyes, and Will felt a new emptiness open up in the pit of his stomach like the seventh circle yawning open for the afflicted.

He broke the eye contact, settling his gaze instead on Hannibal’s chest, down to his stomach, to the desperate throb of his trapped cock. His hands, the hands of murderer, lay delicately and submissively in front of him, capable of so much violence, yet brought to heel with a good leash and few well placed ticks of Will’s tongue. 

Will twisted the tie around his hand, and asserted the other to Hannibal’s stomach. A triangle of flesh was bared where the tails of his shirt parted and Will touched it softly almost. He’d often imagined Hannibal as something less human, or rather, more than a human could be, but the trembling reaction of his belly proved otherwise. Will turned his palm to press against the quivering expanse of Hannibal’s stomach and fingered the waistband of his underwear. 

He paused for half a second, a moment of inventory, of what exactly he had done, would do, and how he might leave the office as though nothing had occurred behind these doors. It wasn’t as difficult as he had once imagined.

His hand dipped downwards, diving beneath the last layer of clothing. Hannibal’s arms seized against the binding, a barely held breath escaping his lips as Will’s hand encountered his fully rigid cock. The nylon and cotton prison was achingly hot with moisture seeping from Hannibal’s swollen head. Will curled his fingers around the length of it, giving a slow experimental pull to test the severity of Hannibal’s aroused agony. He watched in burgeoning euphoria as Hannibal’s brow twisted and he involuntarily rose on his toes. A smile trembled to life on Will’s lips, and he pulled Hannibal back into position with a sharp tug on the tie. 

Encasing Hannibal’s cock with the full clench of his hand, Will began to deliberately pleasure him in rough, straightforward motions. Had his intentions been those of release and completion, he might’ve been more suave and generous as Hannibal had so graciously been when he was on his knees. Instead, he devoted his attention more closely to the twitches and the seizing that belied the onset of a rapturous orgasm. 

He was almost certain of the perfect moment, even more certain still when Hannibal’s bound hands grabbed at the fabric of Will’s shirt, his shoulders hunching into him. His forehead battered Will’s chin before his lips came towards Will’s neck, breath fiery and demanding. Will jerked his hand from Hannibal’s pants, grabbing Hannibal’s jaw with the other that still had the tie wrapped around it. He forced Hannibal back, his fingers digging into his cheeks. 

Their gazes clashed, holding threats of love and violence that seemed almost interchangeable.

“The just man rages in the wilds.” Will whispered, each word uttered like the stab of a knife that exposes the viscera. 

“For who do you rage, Will?” Hannibal breathed, his voice mutilated. “You are putting your hands on flesh and blood and swearing life instead of death.”

Will’s fingers trembled around Hannibal’s jaw, but he was silent. 

“Your killer has learned to claim his power with finality and completion.” Hannibal continued, his voice a low rasp. “You are still groping in the dark.”   


“You accuse me of uncertainty because I don’t perform for you like a circus monkey.” Will snapped, shoving Hannibal’s face from his grasp. “You danced for me just fine.”

Hannibal steadied himself, slowly lifting his bound hands to rub his knuckles across his cheek. He did not speak, though his eyes held the animalistic glint that forewarned of danger beneath the veneer of composure. 

Will shoved the tails of his shirt into pants and zipped them roughly. 

“I have a killer to hunt.” He said darkly, striding towards the door. 

“Will.” 

Will stopped with hand on the door, his jaw clenched. “What?”

“The just man rages in the wilds where the lions roam. There are animals in the world, Will, dangerous ones, and they have teeth. Are you willing to tear them apart? They’re willing to tear you apart.”

Will scarcely glanced back at Hannibal, his jaw clenching around impetuous words. Finally, he yanked the door open and strode out into the hall; then beyond, to the openness of the world to walk among lions. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/m-i-z-u-m-o-n-o)!


End file.
